


When You Talk I Just Smile and Turn Up the Music Real Loud

by stepquietly



Category: Empire (TV 2015)
Genre: Bisexual Female Character of Color, F/F, Femslash, Hate Sex, Infidelity, Podfic Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-17 02:32:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3511922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stepquietly/pseuds/stepquietly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This isn't about getting off. This is about setting a tone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When You Talk I Just Smile and Turn Up the Music Real Loud

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pageleaf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pageleaf/gifts).



> I just mainlined nine episodes of this show in one night and then wrote this fic in the desperately sleep-deprived aftermath. Thanks to [](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/zorana/profile)[](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/zorana/)**zorana** for the speedy beta and for forcing me to watch the show in the first place.
> 
> Title from Squalloscope's Bloodbath For Birds.

The bitch wasn’t wearing any underwear.

Cookie checks again, and yeah, the little bitch is sitting there flashing the room her fancy feast. Flashing Cookie with that smirk pulling her slick, red lips tight like she thinks this is some sort of daring move. Hell, probably is out in whatever bougie rich girl neighbourhood she grew up in. Isn’t a bad powerplay for out in white people world, but not here. And certainly not with Cookie, who’s done a lot more with a lot less and a lot better, if she did say so herself. Bitch is going down.

Cookie crosses her legs and leans back more comfortably against the sofa, and pointedly circles her finger in the direction of the free show. “What happened there? Woke up this morning too stupid to remember your own panties?”

Anika shakes her head, that sly smile trying to say something about Cookie not getting it. But Cookie’s already getting it loud and clear; she’s just willing to play along with this little game.

“I don’t think I forgot anything _this morning_ ,” Anika says, satisfaction clipping the ends of her words, finally putting her knees together and swiveling enough in Lucious’ big chair that she can put her heels up on the table.

“You lucky that skirt is tight enough to hold your legs together,” Cookie tells her dispassionately, unwilling to let Anika see how much that little move got to her.

Instead she stands up and circles round to behind the table, gets in close enough to watch Boo Boo Kitty’s eyes flare with nerves before she blinks them back. “You wanna play this game, little girl?” she asks, walking her fingers over the back of the chair, false nails digging into the leather. “Don’t forget, I didn’t just experiment at some fancy boarding school when the lights went out.”

That’s enough to get Anika’s feet off the table and her out of the chair and in Cookie’s face. “I didn’t need the lights to be off,” she says, voice clear and vicious. “Check with your ex-husband; I always like them on.” She leans in close to whisper, “He knows exactly who he’s getting in bed with.” The smile after says a hundred things about the differences between the two of them, starting with Anika’s age and ending with her position as head of A&R.

Cookie jerks her chin to acknowledge the hit and nods, lips pursing. Then she moves, shoves the chair away to thump against the wall and gets a hand on Anika’s neck, pushes her down over the table and crowds close over her back. “Yeah?” she whispers, “He knows he’s getting in bed with you. Do you know who you’re getting in bed with? _Everything_ Lucious knows about women, he learned from me.” She leans more of her weight on the hoity-ass bitch until Anika finally stops struggling, breath huffing raggedly.

Cookie trails her nails down the back of Anika’s dress, following the line of her zipper. “That little move he's got where he kisses down your spine? Me.” She runs her hand up the side of Anika’s thigh and under her skirt. “That move with his thumb on your clit when he fucks your ass hard from behind? _Me_!” She slides her hand round Anika's hip, nails digging into the flesh there, and drives her point home. “Every time you two were fucking, I was right there with you. So remember who _you’re_ getting in bed with, little girl.”

There’s a pause where the two of them breathe heavily, Cookie waiting for a response before she slides her hand out from underneath Anika’s skirt and pushes off the desk.

Before she can take a step back, Anika grunts and turns her face so her cheek is resting against the wood, lipstick smeared across her cheek. She arches her back and grinds her ass into Cookie’s crotch. “I think you'll find he's got a few new moves now,” she says, and spreads her legs like a challenge.

Cookie’s surprised into a laugh. Boo Boo Kitty got some tiny claws. “What? Like that? If that’s all you got, Lucious woulda kicked you to the curb by now. How about you stop talking and show me what you really got.” Cookie looks her over and shakes her head, purses her lips so Anika doesn’t doubt how wanting Cookie finds her. “Here, I'll even do you a favour and take off my nails.”

Anika slowly pushes up off the desk and turns while Cookie snaps off her nails, wincing at the hard tug of the glue, and leaves them scattered like so much confetti on the floor.

“You better appreciate this,” she grumbles, and Anika gives her one of those pitying looks she hates, like she’s so much better than Cookie for having grown up rich and uptight, as she wiggles that skinny skirt higher up her thighs and sits back on the desk.

“I do appreciate you looking less tacky, yes,” she says, like she’s got any room to talk with her legs spread wide like a two dollar whore. “Come here.”

Cookie looks at her dubiously. “That your sweet talk? Figures. All business and no fun just everywhere, ain’t you?” But she steps into the wide V of Anika’s legs and runs her hands up along those thighs while Anika pulls her into a kiss, rough and slick with spit, like she’s begging for it all already.

She’s got her hands threaded into Cookie’s weave, tugging it back while she bites at Cookie’s lips, grinds her cunt against Cookie’s stomach, sucking hot, hard kisses from Cookie’s mouth to the skin of her jaw and up to her mouth again. It’s good; good enough that Cookie’s got a second to think that little rich girl might actually have some skills, except there aren’t any hands anywhere near Cookie’s boobs or her fine ass, and that’s just teenage necking, isn’t it?

“Baby,” she says, grabbing Anika’s hair with one hand and leading her lower, allowing her to trail a set of stinging bites down Cookie’s throat, the other cupping Anika’s breast, rubbing a nail hard against the peaked edge of a nipple, “lemme show you how it’s done.” She pinches, hard.

Anika jolts, her back arching abruptly, and Cookie takes advantage, slides a hand down and pushes three fingers across her clit and back into the wet heat of her cunt, thumb already working, sliding against her clit as she crooks her fingers.

“Guess you really did get some earlier today, huh?” she says, husky and angry and turned on, wet between her own thighs with the memory of Lucious fucking, the thought of her fucking this little piece of his, like she’s fingering her way right through to him. “Lucious left you wet and wide open, didn’t he? The nasty bastard.”

Anika smiles – the little bitch looks triumphant – even as she keeps grinding her hips against Cookie’s hand. She’s moaning and fucking back against the fingers so that she’s practically working her own clit, Cookie’s thumb just pushing pressure against the bone so it should hurt a little, should mix in a little ache with the wet. Cookie can’t imagine anyone fucking Lucious without learning to love that sweet bite.

She scrapes the thumbnail of her free hand over Anika’s nipple and then pinches it over and over again until Anika’s jerking it away because it’s too sensitive, whimpering high-pitched and needy, making Cookie want to insist on a little of her own. “Didn't know debutantes could sound so much like regular ol' sluts,” she taunts. “Greedy bitch got off once today and now his wife gonna give you another.”

Anika pulls herself together enough to grit her teeth in a vicious smile and fire right back. “I suppose if anyone knows about being a regular _old_ slut, it'd be you. And that’s _ex_ -wife.” She’s finally grabbing handfuls of Cookie’s skirt, yanking it up and out of the way so she can get a hand in Cookie’s panties, can slide her own fingers across Cookie’s cunt, awkward and unpractised, trying to copy Cookie’s moves.

Cookie responds by shoving a hand into Anika’s hair, pulls until she arches her back, hips still trying to work but restricted by the position, the pull of skin against wood. “Girl, you better save that tongue,” Cookie warns, and Anika bares her teeth in a smile as they watch each other. “Unless you want me to tell you where to put it. I think you know exactly what I’m talking about here.” She flicks her thumb hard against Anika’s clit, feels a vicious satisfaction in the way she jolts and whines.

Anika grimaces but continues to stare defiantly, her hand jerkily working in Cookie’s panties. It’s almost a shame to admit how much that works for Cookie though, that awkward fumble that’s nothing like the rough, quick slap of her own fingers in Anika, practiced and smooth. This here is Cookie being better than little miss priss, getting off on getting off and fucking this bitch over.

But this isn’t really about getting off.

Cookie adjusts her grip on Anika’s hair and leans back in. “You wanna be telling Lucious that you learned something new tonight,” she says, and lets go as she slides down to her knees, Anika’s hand forced out of her panties by the motion. She noses in between the folds of Anika’s cunt, tongue working short, stabbing laps against her clit and between Cookie’s own fingers. She ignores the hands grabbing at her hair, the tightening of Anika’s thighs around her shoulders, the spit she can feel dripping down her chin, the slurping sounds she’s making - wet squelches ‘cause Boo Boo Kitty wetter than a fucking ocean and salty as hell too - and listens to the frantic breathing above her, waits for the little trembles, there, there, there.

“Fuck,” she hears, and Cookie smiles into the bitch’s cunt while she jerks and comes, clenching down on her fingers and slick smooth inside.

She waits until Anika’s done, licks soft little laps just to gentle her down, before she pulls away and stands up. She knows what she must look like, mouth smeared and wet on her cheeks, skirt pulled up and her panties lower than they need to be, but she doesn’t care about any of that. Anika’s still gathering herself too, looking wrecked, her hair disheveled and chest heaving. Cookie can’t help but take pride in the way her thighs are gleaming with spit and come, her cunt pink and swollen.

Cookie pulls her panties back up and re-adjusts her skirt, wipes her face off on the back of her hand.

She walks out around the desk and gathers up her bag and coat from the sofa, shrugs the fur on without looking back. Her panties are soaked, cunt slick and sparking with sensation as she walks, but that’s something she’s going to have to handle later. This is about setting a tone.

“That’s two of you that’ve learned something from me now,” she says, fierce and triumphant. “Don’t go thinking you ready to play this game with me yet.”

She doesn’t look back when she leaves. It would ruin the moment.


End file.
